


Track 5 – Your Song (Ellie Goulding)

by REwrites



Series: Play It Again [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Inspired by Music, M/M, Post - Prisoner of Azkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/REwrites/pseuds/REwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If escaping Azkaban was like being born again, holding Remus in his arms was like coming home. Familiar, and comforting, and perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Track 5 – Your Song (Ellie Goulding)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for That1Girl2 who wanted this version instead of the one by Elton John.

  
**I hope you don't mind**   
**I hope you don't mind that I put down in words**   
**How wonderful life is while you're in the world**   


"Have I mentioned I hate this place?" Sirius asked, throwing himself into the scratchy, doxy-chewed sofa. A thin cloud of dust rose up from the depths of the cushions, choking Sirius briefly with more than ten years of disuse. "Bloody Keacher, he rasped, after a fit of coughing. "What's the point of him if he doesn't keep the place clean, I ask you?"

"Oh, I don't know. It has a certain appeal, doesn't it?" Remus asked, wandering vaguely about the room, like an attentive child in a museum, briefly enthralled by more exciting aspects—dinosaur bones and mummy crypts—but otherwise less than amused by dusty old relics, rampant in the Black Family Household, but too polite to say so.

Sirius allowed his eyes to follow the path of Remus's fingers as he ran his hand across brittle book bindings on the shelf, recalling vividly, the way those very same fingers bumped a path across his abdomen not twenty-four hours previous, his bones jutting horrifically through his pale, papery skin.

"Maybe if you're a corpse it holds a certain appeal," Sirius said as he surveyed Remus wandering about the small parlor, his eyes analyzing dark corners critically. "But it's nothing more than a mausoleum, Moony. A glorified place to rot. And I'm stuck here. Azkaban would be a holiday compared to this," he raved, a little more on the harsh side of joking than he'd intended.

Remus stopped his inspection of the room to give him a sad, sweet smile. God, he'd missed that. Missed those lovely lips curved into a reluctant smile. Missed feeling them pressed against his own as he teased the brown-haired man into laughter. Missed having it as a part of his every day life. The world didn't turn for Sirius if Moony wasn't smiling.

A stuffy silence fell between them as Remus continued to examine the room, his wand moving methodically over various objects to ascertain their danger. He shouldn't have made the joke about corpses, but he would never take it back. What else were they but two young men who'd been left to rot as the world passed them by? Old souls trapped in flesh memories bearing wishes of what might have been.

"Who played?" Remus asked as he passed his wand over the dusty baby grand piano in the corner. Sirius sat up, the sofa groaning in protest, considering the piano fondly.

"Regulus," he said after a moments reflection. "Well, he wanted to anyway. Threw a royal hissy about wanting to learn piano when he was seven. Of course he got a broomstick when he was eight and completely forgot all about it."

"Hmmm." Remus lifted the cover and tapped a few ivory keys randomly, his expression thoughtful, and then plunked a few more. "It's still in tune?" he said after a moment, meeting Sirius's eyes briefly. Sirius took a moment to appreciate the deep, brown color of Remus's eyes, so vivid when aroused with curiosity.

"Magically self-tuning," Sirius replied matter-of-factly and Remus snorted.

"My mother would be rolling in her grave to hear that," Remus mused quietly as he continued to play notes at random. "Some things should not be tampered with by magic, she'd say."

Something resembling Fur Elise drifted through the room from the dusty instrument and Sirius watched as a genuine smile pushed its way past the stubborn corners of Remus's mouth as his fingers sought the familiar tune. It sounded mostly alright but for a few wandering notes.

He rose from the dank sofa and moved across the room until he was leaning his elbows on the edge of the piano. "You never told me you played."

"I don't." Remus assured. "My mum gave lessons on the side. I used to watch her play. Sometimes she'd show me a thing or two."

"Play me something."

"Oh, I don't—" Remus started to protest, already backing away.

"Please, Moony," he begged, daring to apply one of his patented Padfoot pouts. The sort that was almost always able to coax Remus into skiving off Herbology for a quick snog under the Quidditch pitch.

Remus rolled his eyes and shook his head ruefully but sat down at the bench all the same. "Don't blame me if your ears start bleeding," he said as he flexed his knuckles across the black and white keys.

Sirius moved behind him, leaning against the wall as Remus played a few random notes. Eventually, the random scales turned into a melody he almost recognized. It sounded like something he'd heard before. Soft and sweet and a little melancholy, drifting slowly, up and down. It was far from perfect, he was knowledgeable enough about music to know that much, but it was being played by Moony so that made it one of the loveliest songs he'd ever heard. Certainly one of the loveliest songs he'd heard in the last thirteen years.

Without thinking, he moved until his chest was pressed firmly against the other man's back. The notes faltered for a brief second, but continued through their refrain as he wrapped his arms around Remus's chest and stooped to lay his head across his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the warm skin of his neck and breathed deeply, adoring the soft, firm presence of the man he'd loved for most of his life. Remus leaned back into him, his head tilting to allow further access to his neck and shoulder.

He was humming along quietly; Sirius could feel it against his lips as he pressed another kiss beneath his jaw. The song ended after a few minutes with little flair, merely trailing off slowly, as if the song were only half-finished. Sirius leaned forward and kissed Remus firmly on the mouth, his tongue parting the other man's lips with no resistance. They moved together, a once familiar rhythm picking up pace. A hand wound itself into his hair and pulled him closer and he sighed into the kiss.

"I love you, you know," Remus whispered against his chin when they broke apart.

Sirius placed a soft peck on his lips again. "I know. You've told me enough times since Dumbledore sent me to you."

"No, I never said it enough…then. Maybe if I had—"

"Stop it," Sirius ordered, sitting himself beside Remus on the bench. He ran his fingers through strands of brown hair littered with grey.  _My poor Moony. My poor, lovely Moony_ , he thought sadly. Sirius already carried the guilt of so many deaths, but seeing the shell of the man Remus had become in his absence had hurt more than he thought was possible after everything that had already happened.

Coming together again, after so much time, Sirius was not sure what to expect. Their time together was so brief before he had to run again. They'd exchanged a few short, stilted letters when they could, which was whenever Sirius was in one place long enough for a determined owl to find him, but they maintained an unwritten agreement to keep things on a platonic level. Neither of them was ready deal with the pieces of their broken relationship yet, preferring for now to let shards lay where they fell until they had the time to give it the level of care it deserved.

Inevitably though, Sirius found himself on Moony's doorstep, soaked from a nasty bout of rain he'd hit on the way. Their hands and hearts were cut on sharp accusations of mistrust and betrayal as they gathered the remains together, but forgiveness healed the hurts. They both had nothing to offer each other any more. Never did really. But this. Being together. Loving each other. Surely that counted for something. He ignored the guilty voice in his head that told him at one point in time, even that was not enough. They'd vowed to leave that in the past.

"I just…" Remus frowned, threading his fingers in his hair. His thumb traced soft circles above his temple and Sirius felt himself leaning into the touch. "I never thought I'd have you back. I was never very good at telling you how I feel—"

Sirius leaned forward and bit down gently on the smooth skin below Remus's ear. "Always had to torture it out of you."

A low hum of contentment rumbled in Remus's throat. "Well, it wasn't all that bad. Some of it was quite pleasurable if I recall correctly."

"Some of my fondest memories," Sirius said with a smile.

Their lips met again briefly before Remus pulled away to rest their foreheads together, one hand still buried in his hair, the other having found itself a home beneath his shirt, just above his hip. "You should know, is all," he said. "Know how I feel."

"And how is that?" Sirius asked.

"Like I have a place in the world again." Remus met his gaze, his eyes warm and loving. Like they always were. How had he been so stupid to miss it before?

"Soppy old man," Sirius teased, but it lacked any real humor. He wrapped his arms tightly around Remus's chest and pulled him close, planting kisses in his hair.

"Love you too, you know," he murmured into brown hair.

They were kissing again, slow and burning, and Sirius felt his body responding to Remus's soft touches and the deep rumble of his moans. This was all he needed. This frail but always strong body in his arms. If escaping Azkaban was like being born again, holding Remus in his arms was like coming home. Familiar, and comforting, and perfect.

He leaned deeper into the kiss and Remus moved to brace himself, his hand coming down loudly on the piano keys. Discordant notes blared for a moment and they broke apart when an annoyingly familiar screeching came from the room next door.

"Have I mentioned I hate this place?" Sirius asked with a glare at the open door.

"You sort her out and I'll play you another song," Remus offered, his fingers touching the keys again.

"Deal." He untangled himself from Remus and rose to go sort out the portrait. "I want a soppy one, Lupin."

"The soppiest," Remus promised.


End file.
